


Riding

by Deviant



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bisexual Male Character, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Male Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant/pseuds/Deviant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Branch and Walt go horseback riding, then return to Walt's home.  Branch reflects on riding with Walt, and riding Walt.  </p>
<p>A less explicit version of this can be found on my fanfiction.net account</p>
<p>AN:  The lack of Walt/Branch fanfiction out there is horrifying, so here’s some porn of my favorite “love to hate you” couple.  I wouldn’t describe this fic as angsty, but I also wouldn’t say it’s fluffy either.  This takes place in a future where there’s somewhat less animosity between the two.  Sex isn’t particularly rough, but it’s not one-true-love sweet love making either.  3rd person, but Branch focus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Riding

Riding with Walt is weird. Not bad, but no matter how often they do it Branch still feel a little lost. He would never admit it though. He figures that the off factor is how quiet Walt gets when they’re riding. He doesn’t expect Walt to become a chatterbox, the man rarely speaks as it is, but when he’s riding he takes it to another level. Walt becomes this introspective, stoic, lone wolf. It doesn’t matter how close their horses are, whether Branch trails behind, rides ahead, or keeps directly to Walt’s side, the older man still feels miles away.

The only other person Branch rides with is his father, and usually then the conversation is peppered with animosity and jabs at Branch’s shortcomings. If Branch were riding with his father he would yearn for the opportunity to zone out and lose himself in the beauty of Wyoming.

The Wyoming morning is particularly beautiful today, what with the sky being a deep blue hosting white clouds. Branch is riding with Walt, the most pensive man in the world, and he has the opportunity to zone out but he can’t. He’s too busy watching Walt. The man doesn’t dress to impress, but Branch still swallows hard as he takes in the sight of Walt’s suede coat, the stubble over his throat and face, his hat. Walt looks over at Branch as though realizing for the first time that the other man is there.

Branch holds his breath as he catches a glimpse of blue eyes. He holds that stare, feels like he has to keep holding that gaze to make up for all the times in the sheriff’s office when he has to look away in order to keep his feelings a secret.

Walt looks away. Branch follows his gaze and realizes that they’ve completed a loop and are approaching Walt’s cabin. “We can leave the horses out to pasture,” Walt says and then turns to look at Branch. “Maybe we can ride again after lunch.”

Branch nods. Riding with Walt is weird, but not unpleasant. 

The painted mare that Branch rides is happy to be stripped of its saddle and given the opportunity to graze. She takes off as soon as she’s free and doesn’t bother looking back. Branch heaves the heavy saddle up into safe keeping, running his fingers over the initials sealed into the leather. BC. Branch doesn’t keep much at Walt’s place, but his expensive saddle has a place beside Walt’s less expensive, well-worn saddle.

Walt likes to take his time undressing his horse. Branch knows and expects as much. The first few times it happened Walt would look at him, an apology tugging at his lips, and tell Branch that he can go on ahead to the house if he wanted. Branch always declined, and eventually Walt stopped asking. Now Branch leans against a pillar in the small barn, his hands worked into his tight wranglers, and he watches Walt.

Walt’s rubbing one of his large hands over his horse’s neck, and tries to undo a strap with his other hand. It’s a slow go, but Branch just lets his eyes trail over Walt. Fuck, so the man likes to take his time, that was fine with Branch as long as Walt takes his time and uses those careful hands in more interesting ways too. Jaw clenched, Branch shifts his weight slightly. Walt never gave much of a show, Branch suspects he doesn’t know how to, but that doesn’t stop Branch from feeling like the other man is on display for his eyes. He can see sweat trailing down Walt’s neck. If the sheriff tries to sneak away to take a quick shower, Branch won’t let him. There wasn’t any point trying to be modest or clean when what they were going to do was neither.

Branched steps to the side as Walt moves to put his saddle away. He turns to walk slowly from the barn, knowing from experience that Walt is trailing behind him with his horse in tow. That horse broke into a happy trot to join the mare, and Branch practically breathes a sigh of relief as they near the house.

They are barely in the home before Branch is pushing Walt back against the door and kissing him hard. Branch pulls back long enough to pull his hat off and toss it onto the couch, and then he is reaching for Walt’s hat with his hand and searching out his mouth with his tongue.

“Branch, ah, Branch,” Walt pushes gently at Branch’s shoulders, “I, uh, should get cleaned up.” Walt smiles nervously, looking towards the bathroom.

Branch steps back, but blocks the way to the bathroom. He rolls his shoulders slightly, and gets to work on unzipping his coat. “No point getting clean when we’re just going to get dirty.”

The older man sucks in a breath. So what if Walt was more conservative and had more romantic notions when it came to sex, what was the point of being with a hot, young stud like Branch Connelly if he couldn’t handle a few words?

Branch pulls his coat from his shoulders, still wearing his cotton shirt. He reaches out and pushes the suede coat from Walt’s shoulders, his fingers moving to work on the buttons of the shirt underneath. He presses his mouth against Walt’s and tries to banish the man’s hesitation with his tongue. Walt’s hands wrap around Branch’s waist and pulls him closer. Branch pulls away from the kiss to tug off Walt’s shirt, then he works the cotton undershirt out of Walt’s waistband.

“Branch… Branch,” Walt chants quietly as his arms are filled with a grinding, horny depute.

“Yeah, you like saying my name don’t you?” Branch asks, growling into Walt’s ear. He palms the tan, hairy chest in front of him, wondering when Walt went shirtless enough to tan his chest. Branch doesn’t usually play sex kitten games, but he wants to drag his tongue over the muscles in Walt’s neck so he does. The sweat on that skin is salty and warms Branch’s mouth. He nibbles along Walt’s jaw and is rewarded with the grip on his waist tightening. Which is nice, but Branch wants more. Branch wants Walt to fight off the shyness and pull off Branch’s shirt, fumble with his belt and pants a little, grind the growing bulge in his pants against the harder one in Branch’s.

Walt is annoying like that, always showing the slightest bit of restraint even when it is unnecessary and unwanted.

Branch sucks on a spot below Walt’s jaw and almost laughs at the mental image of the sheriff of Absaroaka county walking around with a hicky on his neck. Oh, but that would be hot, watching Walt falter and shyly try to evade the teasing questions from Vic. Knowing that he’d put the mark there on Walt’s body even as everyone else gossiped about how it had come to happen. Branch moans into that neck and rolls his hips against Walt, trying his best to rub his eager hard on into Walt’s thigh.

“Can you tell how much I want you?” Branch asks, hands trailing up Walt’s bare back.

Branch is shoved away with a surprising amount of force. His eyes darken, aroused. When push came to shove between him and Walt it usually results in an ungodly amount of blood flooding his cock.

Walt pushes himself off of the door and closes in on Branch. His hands find the hem of Branch’s shirt and tug, pulling it loose from the waistband of his jeans and hauling it over his head. “My bedroom, now,” Walt says, voice hoarse. Branch turns away and has to resist the urge to run, his feet sweeping quickly over the wood floors. 

Branch knows Walt isn’t the type to keep up the domineering act in the bedroom, no, Walt is the type who likes to turn to mush and try to take things slow and gentle. Branch doesn’t give him the opportunity to turn shy, he grabs the belt loops of Walt’s jeans and spin the man around so that his back is to the bed. Then he pushes the man back and watches hungrily as Walt lands on the bed.

Branch palms his erection through his jeans and looks as a mixture of lust and embarrassment sweep over the older man’s face. Walt likes to pretend he doesn’t like watching Branch touch himself, but you don’t get to fuck a man and then play bashful.

“Watching you drives me crazy,” Branch says, hands reaching to undo his belt buckle. “Maybe I don’t have the same affect on you-”

“No, no uh, you do affect me,” Walt mumbles quietly, and maybe he means it in a G-rated way, but Branch can’t help but eye the growing the bulge in his jeans.

Branch smirks. He kicks off his boots, and pulls the belt from his jean loops before tossing it onto a chair. He undoes the button of his wranglers, pulling down the zipper, feeling a sort of relief as the pressure on his erection lessons. He shimmies out of those tight jeans, loses the socks and then he’s climbing on top of Walt’s lap wearing nothing but his boxer briefs.

One slow, deep kiss to get Walt properly worked up. Their tongues sliding over each other. Branch cups the sides of Walt’s face, fingers twisting into his hair slightly, a show of affection that Walt desperately wants. Branch runs his tongue over Walt’s lips before he gets swallowed up in another kiss. He pulls back just a little bit, but enough to grind his cock against Walt’s lap. “Aren’t you gonna touch me?” he challenges, his eyes narrowed at the man beneath him.

Walt raises his hands and runs them up and down Branch’s sides. Branch smirks and leans in for another kiss, moaning when those large, callused hands explore his stomach. Branch pulls his mouth away so that he can lick the side of Walt’s neck he hasn’t touched yet, and those big hands move around his back to dip into the curve there. 

“Branch… Branch…” Walt gasps, shifting his hips slightly.

Branch isn’t doing anything particularly wonderful, just trailing his tongue over Walt’s neck. He sucks there briefly before shifting lower, nibbling on a collar bone. The hands on his back shift higher as he shifts lower, those hands switching between scratching blunt nails and digging fingertips in. 

A mouth locks around Walt’s nipple briefly, just long enough for a teasing flicker of tongue, and then Branch is kissing Walt’s sternum and moaning into his chest hair. Branch will go a little lower, kissing and licking Walt’s stomach while Walt’s hands squeeze his shoulders. Branch nips at Walt’s hipbone one last time before pulling back, his feet sliding to reach the floor.

“You wanna watch me undo your belt and jeans with just my mouth?” Branch asks, mouth cocked.

“No,” Walt says, and then seems to realize he should elaborate incase Branch takes it the wrong ways. He doesn’t have to; Branch takes everything Walt says with a grain of salt. “It would take too long.”

Ah, so even Walt has his limits.

Walt’s hands have taken up the task of undoing his belt, and the second there is room enough to maneuver Branch is undoing the button of his jeans and tugging down that zipper. The belt claps slightly as it is tugged free, folded, and tossed. Thank god the jeans Walt wears are nowhere near as tight as the ones Branch wears, or else it would be impossible to pull them off in this position. Walt helps by kicking off his boots and raising his hips, and Branch growls slightly. He wants those hips underneath him, raising and grinding and fucking. Branch reaches to pull off Walt’s underwear.

“Branch,” Walt says, his hands closing around the younger man’s wrists, slowing him.

Branch shoots him an annoyed look. “Once I get back on you, I’m not getting off you again until I’m done. So either I take your underwear off now or I’ll just tug them down low enough to free your cock when I want it and you can keep wearing your underwear.”

Walt swallows. He lets go and moves his hands to the bed to help him lift his hips while Branch strips him down to nothing. Branch makes sure to make eye contact with Walt before he shimmies out of his own underwear, only breaking that hungry gaze to lean forward and drag his tongue over Walt’s half hard cock. A hand fists in his hair and tugs, and Branch lets himself be pulled away, but not before swiping his tongue over the balls. 

Walt pulls Branch’s mouth down and forces his tongue into Branch’s mouth. Branch reaches a hand down to grab their cocks, rubbing them together, waiting for Walt to stiffen all the way so that he can ride him. “Feels so good,” Branch moans into Walt’s mouth. His cock aches, begging for an opportunity to come and experience relief. Branch sits up so that he can look down at Walt, whose mouth is parted as he pants, and then his eyes trail lower so that he can see his fist sliding up and down their hard cocks.

Hesitant hands reach up and stroke Branch’s chest, and then pinch his nipples experimentally. “Walt,” Branch moans, smearing his precome over their dicks. He jumps slightly as Walt’s hands finally cup his ass, kneading the tight muscle. Branch releases them and shifts, reaching for the lube in the bedside table drawer. He lifts his hips so that there’s space to maneuver between them. “Lube up,” he says as he squirts some lube onto Walt’s dick.

Branch lubes up his fingers and then tosses the container to the side. One hand is still squeezing his ass hard, and that hand on his ass feels like the best thing he’s felt in ages. If only he could find a way to get Walt to cup and palm and squeeze his ass on a daily basis. He bends back over Walt, but his eyes are squeezed shut as he circles his asshole with a wet finger. His cock bumps against Walt’s as Walt fists himself and lubes his cock.

“Branch, uh,” Walt groans, his hand helping to part Branch’s ass cheeks. 

“Fuck, who’d have thought Walt Longmire would be an ass man,” Branch groans into Walt’s ear. Yet he’s the one straddling another man’s lap, fingering his asshole, stretching himself so that he can swallow up a fat cock.

Walt pulls his hand away from his cock, gives Branch’s erection a few gently tugs, and then reaches his hand back up to Branch’s ass. His fingers dip into the crack and ghost along the edge as Branch pushes back on his fingers.

“Ready?” Walt asks, and Branch says yes by dragging his tongue over Walt’s throat. It’s not every day that Walt gets impatient.

Branch sits upright and grabs Walt’s dick, he lowers his hips and his body hums with the strain of slowly impaling himself. Yeah, riding with Walt is weird, but riding Walt is otherworldly. His ass feels full and stretched in the best way possible. 

“You’re tight,” Walt says, hands grabbing Branch’s narrow hips.

“Mmn, you’re big,” Branch counters, and he shifts his weight so that he can raise himself up. Yeah, Walt’s cock is big, thick with age and slower to harden, but easily one of Branch’s favorite things in the world. Branch starts a steady, easy rhythm, the sound of skin slapping egging him on to ride harder, faster.

“Almost feel like you should still be wearing your hat,” Walt says, only it comes out in short bursts because Walt is struggling to breath, talk, and gasp at the same time.

“Oh god, fuck Walt, I’ll ride you one day in nothing but my hat,” Branch replies. The raising and lowering of his hips get faster and sloppier as he abandons rhythm in favor of constant friction. His cock bounces with his movement, slapping his stomach and then Walt’s stomach.

“Easy… easy…” Walt grabs his hips and tries to slow him down. Going slow, oh it feels good reveling in being emptied and then filled again, but Branch’s face twists. It’s not enough.

“Why don’t you speed up?” Branch counters, and even though he loves those hands on his hips he still strains against them for a rougher pace. “I want to come,” he says, and he doesn’t have to look to know that Walt is blushing. It’s true though, his ass is squeezing the hard cock buried there and his balls feel like if they don’t empty themselves soon he will turn into a mess of desperation and want. He’s barely holding it together as is. “Make me come, Walt.”

Hands on his hips try to guide Branch by lifting and lowering. Up and down, seems simple enough but Branch can’t match the fast pace Walt is setting. Walt’s rhythm is steady and even, and Branch is anything but. He’s just flexing and heaving and falling without thinking. 

“Branch… Branch…”

Branch doesn’t say anything, he’s trying not to groan but lets out a few grunts. He wraps his hand around his cock, and just like that his ass seizes and he’s clamping down on a cock that feels impossibly large. A few tugs of his hand to carry him through and he’s shooting his load over Walt’s hairy stomach and chest. “Oh fuck.”

He doesn’t fall forward, but he can’t really hold himself up either. He’s slumped down on Walt’s dick, his breath ragged, body clenching and humming and slack all at the same time.

Yeah, riding Walt is glorious.

Walt is still hard, still buried in his ass.

He should move.

“Branch?”

“Mmn,” Branch licks his lips and searches for Walt’s gaze. “Fuck me, Walt.”

Walt flips them over with a strength that reminds Branch that Walt still has some fight in him. He’s lying on his side facing Walt, his leg propped over the older man’s waist. Branch swallows. Every once in a while he manages to feel very small in Walt’s presence, like he’s a kid, or just so inexperienced he’s nowhere near reaching the other man. Here in Walt’s bed, with his cock shrinking and spent while Walt is still hard and showing so much restraint, he feels small.

“Like this?” Walt asks, as he pushes them over a little more so that Branch is lying on his back and Walt is kneeling between his thighs.

“Sure,” Branch says like he doesn’t care. He feels even smaller in this position with Walt looming over him.

“You sure?” Walt asks. He’s too polite to point out Branch’s spent cock.

“Fuck Walt, I’m not made of China.”

Then Walt is pulling out and pushing back in. He pushes Branch’s legs back so that he has better access, and then he’s setting a slow pace. It’s quite a sight, Walt Longmire, hair sticking to his neck, weathered skin flushed, come drying on his stomach. Walt never looks away from Branch’s face, no doubt looking for a sign that he should slow down or stop.

Branch never gives him such a sign. He just groans. Getting fucked while a cloud of arousal surrounds you is a lot different than getting fucked after you’ve come, when you’re not expecting to get off, your ass just being used to get your partner off. “Come on, Walt,” Branch eggs him on. “Don’t hold out on me.”

Walt actually chuckles, and then shrugs. His lips are parted and he’s panting and he looks like he’s close but his stable thrusts suggest otherwise. Branch clenches his ass, but Walt just lets out an “oh” and keeps up his rhythm.

“Give it up, Walt.”

Blue eyes look down at Branch curiously.

“Give it to me,” Branch says, and he lifts his ass in demonstration. The nervous excitement that sweeps over Walt’s face is pretty cute. Branch reaches a hand up to pinch Walt’s nipple, and for the first time Walt’s steady thrusts get a little sloppy. It’s the only warning he gives, but it’s the only one Branch needs. “Walt… Walt...”

Walt grunts and stills over Branch, his face scrunched up in pleasure. He collapses on Branch, and Branch is happy to be smothered by the heavier man if it means getting to feel his cock slowly soften in his ass. A few minutes pass and neither one of them tries to move.

“Don’t fall asleep on me. You said we’d eat lunch and then go riding again,” Branch whispers.

**Author's Note:**

> Do I write ridiculously long sex scenes??
> 
> Ah! I love hearing from readers and fellow Longmire fans! Don't be shy if you want to talk about the show or the ship or what have you! Reviews make me happy, :)


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